


Christmas at Baker Street, or how John tries to survive December with Sherlock

by KittensAndRage



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas Cards, Christmas OTP Challenge, Christmas Tree, Crack, Gen, Hot Cocoa, M/M, Mistletoe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parody, decorations, don't ask i don't know what i'm doing with it nor where i'm going with it, i have no idea what im doing here, john's blog parody, polish version available, the only thing is that i intend to do it with the list
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittensAndRage/pseuds/KittensAndRage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas OTP Challenge, my first challenge ever.<br/>John, beside the obvious blog that everyone reads, has also one that is NOT AT ALL about Sherlock. Seriously. It's about John. And his Christmas with Sherlock.</p><p>Polish version here: sfrustrowany-doktor.blogspot.com  (tam też kilka opowieści o martwej wiewiórce itepe...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Putting up decorations, or how Sherlock is a lazy arse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yourmultifandomlover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourmultifandomlover/gifts).



> So these little drabbles are very little 'cause I don't have much time but I really wanted to do this, so. I'm writing it for my Polish blog and translating here. Enjoy, it's my advent calendar for you, folks! :)

Christmas is coming.  
Yes, I know, most of you probably noticed it, but Sherlock was amazingly surprised, when I got out our christmas decorations from my special hiding place that he hasn't penetrated yet (hiding place in Mrs. Hudson's flat, to be exact). He gave me an odd look and then sulked some more on the sofa. Obviously he didn't move to help me, I had to decorate our mantelpiece with christmas lights all on my own, and put the misteltoe everywhere also on my own. That man.

What may astonish you is that he volunteered to go and choose a christmas tree with me. I know! I was surprised too. And a bit suspicious, what might've been rude, but hell, who knows what he's up to, and better safe than sorry, right? Anyway, I told him that I agree and he can come with me a few days later. (Christmas spirit and all, but if we'd go today, like he wanted to, the tree would be dead by Christmas. I needed to explain him that I really didn't feel the need to take the decorations off a dead christmas tree and buy new tree just because _he wanted to_. Oh, Sherlock.)

That's why the rest of the day was basically me, on different pieces of furniture, trying to put the decoractions where I wanted them to be (damn my genes. My height isn't such an issue during the year.) and glaring at Sherlock, who didn't crawl off the sofa to just pretend that he's helping me, that bloody lazy stubborn giraffe.

Anyway: Christmas almost-came to Baker Street without great (ha ha) problems.

I just need to find reindeer antlers for Sherlock.


	2. Christmas cards, or how Sherlock deals with glitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock likes the idea of making cards a little too much...

Today I've been woken up by a flash. Yep, an actual flash, a camera one. Sherlock liked the idea of making christmas cards _a bit_ too much. The thought that taking photos of me sleeping while wearing a Father Christmas' hat, and printing it as postcards is  such a great idea! And then he wanted to send them to his whole family. (It turns out that his family is quite extensive - cousins, uncles, aunts and everything in between.) I haven't the faintest why he thought it was such a great idea them photos of a sleeping friend of his.  
 _I guess I don't have to tell you that I destroyed all of them._  
 _Not all._

__

  
ALL of them.  
 _You're no fun._

Anyway. I figured that he should go and fuss around his experiments, there's always something, but he said it was “boring”.  
And then I said, “Well, what do you want to do, then? Sulk all day like yesterday?”  
He suggested going for a christmas tree, and I vetoed it. So he threw a tantrum. Very mature.  
Then I thought, hell, I'm not gonna make it through December. I found some colorful cartons and a few sharpies, I gave him glue and glitter and told him to make christmas cards. Proper ones.  
Look what a cutie, all covered with gold glitter:

 

_JOHN!_


	3. Sitting with drug... ekhm, hot cocoa and wrapping presents. Yay!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's trying to wrap presents and John is blogging about it. Yep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo, I cheated a bit, sorry, didn't make it for yesterday. So the prompt from day 3 is here (drinking hot cocoa in front of the fireplace) and from day 4 as well! (shopping for/wrapping gifts).

I managed to get him to sit down for a moment and drink a cup of hot cocoa, because a moment of free time doesn't happen frequently here. Of course he moaned that he didn't like it, that he wouldn't drink it, but eventually he did. It was a really nice evening, near the fireplace and

That bastard spiked my cocoa with something! And he claimed that it wasn't his fault, that I've just _fallen asleep_. As if I've ever slept entire day just because I wanted to. Sure. I'm starting regret buying him his present already.  
Of course I won't write here _what_ I bought, it's a surprise, right. But now I have to buy something else, to give him something to deduce instead, as a diversion. That's one of the things that you learn while hanging out with Sherlock Holmes.

And I have to pretend that I don't see how he's trying to wrap up his present for me. He's doing a poor job. I'd offer my help, but, well...  
He may be a genius, but wrapping and tying little bows is too much for him. Who'd guess that.

I guess he deduced _what_ I'm writing (perhaps from the way I type or something), because he huffed and went to his bedroom. “Don't follow me!” he yelled. As if I wanted to. (Yeah, okay, I'd like to, but I wouldn't, obviously.)

  
A New Year's resolution (a bit too early for that but scratch that): keep all beverages far away from Sherlock.  
Always.


End file.
